Page 35 of Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia 3)

I sighed, looking at the mess of food covering the floor, the walls, and the kids. This was not going to be fun to clean up.

I bent down on the floor to start the process of cleaning up, but didn’t get very far. Tristan launched himself into my arms and wrapped his around my neck. “You and mommy fighted. I don’t like it when you fight. She said bad words. I don’t like bad words,” he looked at me with wide innocent blue eyes. “She hit you. She not nice. I don’t like her. Why does she have to be my mommy? Why can’t you be my mommy, Row?” My eyes closed at his words, my throat clenching. His small hand gently rubbed my sore cheek. “Hold still. I kiss it and make it better.”

My stomach tightened painfully at Tristan’s words. I held him in my arms as his soft lips touched my cheek—trying to take away my pain. If only sweet little kisses could make everything better. The world would certainly be a vastly different place.

chapter seven

Hey.

I stared at the text message flashing on the screen of my phone. It was from a number I didn’t recognize and I wasn’t sure whether I should respond or not.

It’s Trent.The text came through a minute after the first.

How’d u get my #?I typed back. I knew I hadn’t given it to him and I was curious to know who had.

Ran into my new best friend, Jude. Cool dude. Glad I didn’t have to fight him for u. I would’ve though.

I rolled my eyes; slightly pissed that Jude had given Trent my number. Wasn’t that breaching some kind of friend code or something? I mean, I’d been asked by more than one of Jude’s conquests for his cellphone number and I never gave it away. I was nice like that. Apparently Jude didn’t return the same favor.

Don’t be macho.I typed back.U went through all this trouble to get my # so what do u want?

My phone began to buzz in my hand and I lifted it to my ear.

“I didn’t feel like typing on that ridiculous keyboard any longer. It changes everything I type, so then I have to double check it before I click send so I don’t say penis when I mean pens,” he rambled without a breath in-between.

“Do you text about pens a lot?”

“I like pens,” he stated, and I knew he was smiling that crooked grin that made my insides squirm. “Anyway, I didn’t call to discuss the merits of a good ball-point. I wanted to discuss our date…that’s supposed to happen in three hours…if you haven’t backed out on me,” his voice grew slightly sad sounding.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I mumbled, staring at the clothes strewn about my room. I had never cared how I dressed before. Even when we’d dated in high school, I hadn’t cared what Trenton thought of my clothes. Suddenly, though, I wanted to be worthy of being seen with him. Pathetic, I know. Over night I had turned into one of those girls. Irritated with myself I turned the phone on speaker and grabbed a pair of black leggings, shimmying into them.

“I’ll pick you up at one—”

“No,” I protested, clutching a loose teal sweater in my hands.

Trent huffed in exasperation. “I’ve been to your house before. I know the rules, stay in the car, and do not go inside. I’ll be a good boy.”

I swallowed thickly. “Okay,” I agreed reluctantly.

“I’ll see you then.” With that, the line went dead.

I flopped on my bed. Why the hell had I ever agreed to this? Stupid Trent and his annoying knack for being persistent. Why couldn’t he have left me alone? He knew even after all these years I still had feelings for him—it was pretty obvious in the way my body responded to him and the fact that I always ran away from him like a child with a schoolyard crush. I knew we would never make it as a couple though. We were too different and there was so much he didn’t know—that I couldn’t tell him. Keeping my distance had been the only way, but he had to constantly pop up, and chip away at the icy shield that blocked

my emotions. I knew this was bad, but I had agreed, and I couldn’t stop myself now. I wanted Trenton for as long as I could have him. Especially since no one else could ever replace him. Despite our differences, our connection was deep, it was the kind of connection most people never experienced. We understood each other better than anyone else did. Trenton had always been able to read my emotions when most couldn’t.

I covered my face with my hands and let out a quiet scream so I didn’t worry the kids. I had gotten myself into a sticky situation and there was no way out—not until the both of us shattered completely.

I forced myself off the bed and pulled on my sweater and boots. I picked up the mess of clothes strewn about my small room and returned them to where they belonged.

I dabbed on a bit of pink gloss and some mascara—it’s all I usually wore.

I opened my bedroom door and jumped back when I saw Tristan standing there, peering up at me with curiosity shimmering in his blue eyes. “You were in there for a loooooooong time. Who were you talking to?”

“I was getting dressed,” I told him, tugging on the bottom of my sweater, feeling like I was about to get in trouble for something—funny, considering he was five.

He tilted his small head, taking in my words. Finally he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.” At his age, he didn’t need more of an explanation, and he’d probably already forgotten that he’d heard me talking to someone.

“What do you want for lunch?” I asked him, closing my bedroom door behind me.

---